Cosmic Captor

by Stella Cassy

  He’s about to fall to the floor when my arms wrap around him, steading him in the seat with my full body weight. His breath is hotter than usual on my skin. It’s obvious by his scent and the dry scaly skin under my hands that he’s seriously unwell. My big handsome, irritatingly brazen dragon is hanging on by a thread. Unsure how this information has come to me, I shout for a medic as the bite that he left on my shoulder roars to life. Instead of pain, the sensation is more like some strange form of adrenaline that’s totally foreign to my system.

  Suddenly, there are healers converging on us. He needs more than just my love and concern to aid him in the life and death battle he’s now engaged in.

  When they lift him onto a hover board, I fight back the tears at the sight of one of his wings hanging limply to the side. The board isn’t high enough to keep his tail from dragging and this really bothers me. It seems like an indignation my proud warrior should not have to suffer, even under these circumstances. While they connect a monitoring unit to one arm, I rush over and gently lift his caudal and place it alongside his unconscious body. Strange guttural noises sound off around the room. The healers and several members of the crew are staring at me in what can only be described as awe. I realize it has something to do with a woman tending her fallen warrior.

  Bending, I move a strand of hair out of his face and whisper words of affection before allowing them to take him away. Without stopping to think, I take several steps behind them. Then I realize the battle isn’t over.

  Lehar is commanding as best he can, but it’s clear that with several members of the bridge crew down, he could really use a second set of eyes on this dodgy situation. My feet come to a stop as the reality of our situation hits me full force. Though I want to run to the healing unit and hover, I can’t justify hanging out there and doing nothing if my time could be better served staving off another attack. Tarion will definitely end up dead if we lose this battle.

  Doing an about face, I walk over to Lehar. “What’s our status?”

  Surprise registers on his face a split second before he explains in words I can understand. “Both ships’ systems overloaded at the same time. Our fighters and remaining drones are engaging the four remaining Paxian vessels. With Emf'phet’s ship out of the fight, we’re close to evenly matched though the odds are in their favor.”

  “I don’t like those odds. Let’s see what we do to even them out.”

  “Though Emf'phet’s ship is clearly out of commission, he’s still calling the shots.”

  “His shield is failing and his weapons are offline. Have the drones converge on his ship and focus on the communications array. If memory serves, it’s located on the underbelly of the ship.”

  “They won’t be expecting us to pull fighter drones away from an actual battle to take out Emf'phet’s communications.”

  “It’s a low priority area. He’s using most of his remaining shield strength to protect his weapons.”

  Lehar shouts orders to his crew and we watch the fighter drones swarm the bottom of Emf'phet’s vessel. Within moments his communi-channel goes offline.

  Lehar grins at me. “That was a smart move. The other ships are still fighting but faltering, trying to decide who’s in charge.”

  “I suspected they might. The Pax have strict rules about their chain of command. To have Emf'phet out of the fight but still technically in charge of his fleet will take them a second to sort out. Paxinas who overstep that way risk extreme punishments. Why don’t we concentrate all our fire on the next strongest ship because they normally put the next most capable captain in charge? If we can bring that ship down, they’ll have to take a second to regroup again.”

  His crew responds as soon as the words come out of my mouth. One of them sounds off. “We’ve got incoming, sir.”

  Lehar leans over the control panel. “It’s three more Pax vessels. We can’t take them all on. We simply don’t have enough energy to charge the weapons.”

  “Pull in all your fighters, focus all your energy to the shields and negotiate a deal. Trade me for safety for you and your crew.”

  “I can’t see them giving us quarter when they can simply overpower us and take what they want. Though they came for you, it’s a matter of survival now. Tarion already told them what will happen if our ship reaches a member world of the Intergalactic Council. They won’t risk getting themselves thrown out of this sector of space over one slave and a pile of chromite.”

  “We have more incoming.”

  Lehar once again leans over the console and this time he frowns. “It looks like an insectoid swarm.”

  Happiness and worry war in my chest.

  “It seems that we’re all doomed today. They’ll take out all our ships just for being in their way. How’s that for unexpected?” Lehar didn’t sound nearly as devastated as one might have expected considering his dour prediction.

  “I sent out a distress call on the communi-channel in insectoid.”

  “That doesn’t seem likely, since no one in this sector speaks the language. It’s some sort of buzzing that even our best language programs can’t translate.”

  Sitting down at the console, I open a channel. Again, using the scratchpad I draw the chits and a rudimentary image of the Pax vessels.

  One of the bridge crew sounds off. “They’re scanning us. Sir.”

  Lehar lurks over my shoulder. “What is that you’re sending?”

  “I was once owned by insectoids. You’re right about not understanding them. Their language is some weird noise they make by rubbing the top of their wings together. I was never able to make out a single word. They use these glyphs to conduct trade.”

  Looking all kinds of skeptical, Lehar asked, “So you think they’ll take out the Paxian ship for three credits?”

  “Each chit is worth a thousand credits. They paid ten chits for me back in the day. Of course, I was younger and loads more bright and bubbly back then.”

  “I find that hard to believe. You’re vastly more bright and bubbly than any brooder I’ve ever met even now.”

  Shooting him a quick smile, I shrug. “Thanks. Since I’m not a gun for hire, I’ve got no idea how much to charge them. The thing is, they love to negotiate. If my price is too low, they’ll make a counter offer.”

  “If that’s true, we’ll be taking them up on their offer, no matter how absurd it is.”

  “Roger that. Pull our fighters back. I don’t want to see them targeted by mistake.”

  Lehar’s finger taps out a message and I see them retreat. The insectoids showing up is a game changer for the Pax as well. They’ve stopped firing at us and are regrouping around Emf'phet’s ship. “Ha, they’re protecting their pompous coward of a king.”

  Lehar shoots me a disapproving look. “General, you mean.”

  Waving my hand dismissively, I comment, “Who cares what he’s called? They stopped shooting at us.” Grinning like a mad fool, I lean back in my chair. “I did that.”

  “Yes, you did. You’re one helpful little brooder to have around.”

  Frowning, I shake my head disapprovingly. “Thanks for that.”

  Lehar gestures to the communi-channel. “You got a response from your bug friends.”

  Jerking forward again in my seat, I open the message. “Yea, well they were the nicest masters a slave could ever ask for.” It takes me a minute to make sense of their drawing. “They don’t want credits. I can tell because they drew a slash through the chits and drew something else.”

  “It’s the molecular structure of chromite. It’s what powers our fuel rods.”

  I open a communi-channel to the Pax. “This is former slave 2701. Cease all hostilities and leave the vicinity immediately or die.”

  “That would definitely scare me… if I were a youngling again that is.”

  I stop chewing my bottom lip long enough to drop Lehar a clue. “I’m not trying to scare them. Not that they will listen but I’m just stating the facts. If they don’t pull back, it’s on
them.”

  “That’s pretty sassy talk, considering the insectoids haven’t agreed to lend us a hand. They’re powering up their weapons again.”

  “Damn fools. If they’re determined to die today, so be it.” I pull up an image of the molecular structure of Chromite and draw out 10 chit size chunks. Their response is instantaneous. The insectoids begin obliterating the Paxian fleet.

  “I’m going to go out on a limb here and say they liked that offer.” Lehar’s dry sense of humor isn’t amusing, but he’s got a point. “ How about we go laser out ten standard units of the chromite?”

  “I’ve got that. You stay here and oversee the destruction of our enemies.”

  “Hurry, I want to put distance between us and the insectoids as soon as possible.”

  “I thought they were your favorite masters?”

  “They were my favorite masters, right up until one of them picked me up with his razor sharp talons and dropped me back into a slave pit.”

  “Unpredictable lot, are they?”

  “You got that right. Now amscray.”

  “Fine, but later we’re going to have a conversation about who’s in charge when Tarion’s down.”

  Rubbing the scar on my right hand, I watch the battle taking place. It seems absurd to hire out the heavy lifting to the insectoids while all our crew is safely behind the now repaired shield, but I can’t bear to risk them unnecessarily. After seeing Tarion fall, I refuse to lose another warrior today.

  Reaching over, I open an intership link to the medical unit. The response is immediate. “Healer Jarnok speaking. Do you wish a status report on your mate?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Captain Tarion sustained severe damage to his central nervous system and his wing base. His chance of making a full recovery is approximately thirty-seven percent. If he recovers consciousness, that will be a good sign, but I cannot promise his wings will ever be functional.”

  “Thank you, Healer Jarnok. I appreciate the honesty, if not the news.”

  “You are welcome, mate of Tarion.”

  Not being able to fly is not going to go over very well with my big dragon. I remember the time he spread his wings and lifted me into the air with him. Flying means freedom to him. Somehow the big blustering dragon raider has snaked himself into my heart. As the battle rages on, I remember how put off I was by his arrogant ways when we first met. Now, I find his cocky manner adorable and endearing. It’s a big part of what I like about him. If that confidence takes a nosedive because his wings won’t work anymore, it’ll break my heart.

  The insectoids make short work of the Pax vessels. They don’t go after the life pods. That’s a small consolation, I suppose. It cues me that they are rational thinking beings and not just heartless monsters. Their weapons are so superior to anything else in this sector that they sometimes get a bad reputation for shooting first and making nice later.

  I activate the computer system and latch onto the Lehar’s signal. “I am just finishing the job now. Is there something else you need?”

  “I just remembered that every time the insectoids interact with another species, they leave behind small bundles of random supplies. I think it must be their way of showing respect.”

  “Let me guess, you wish me to gather some supplies to gift them with.”

  “It doesn’t have to be anything costly.”

  “May I ask, to what end?”

  “I believe cultivating good relations with the insectoids would be in our best long term interest. No one else in this sector knows what to do with them.”

  “I agree. They’ve proven their worth as allies today. Do you have any idea what they value?”

  “Their tech is superior to ours, but I’ve always wondered if they really had a general fund of knowledge of our sector and the member worlds of the Intergalactic Council of Planet. Would it be possible to download the non-restricted information from our database, star maps of the known universe and trade routes? I’d toss in a set of those tiny slides with tissue samples and our medical database. That would enable them to create DNA tissue samples. Being in a position to render appropriate medical care would make them a genuine asset in the event that they stumbled upon a disaster.”

  “That’s all too easy. We’ve got gobs of those kits. Anything else?”

  “Maybe some high quality blankets. Those always seemed to be in short supply. Throw in some dry foodstuffs and seeds if you have any on hand. If you really want to be impressive, they like pins.”

  “What?”

  “I know this sounds odd, but they all wear sashes draped over one shoulder. I don’t know whether it’s ornamental or serves a purpose, but the fabric was always really luxurious. They clip the sashes to a shoulder harness with a fancy pin. The pins looked like the fancy brooches you sometimes see women wear. They were made of different kinds of metal and were encrusted with fine gemstones.”

  “I’m going to skip over how absurd that sounds, but I’ll have the gifts packed and on hover boards shortly. Are we inviting them here or are we going to their ship?”

  “Neither. The insectoids are a reclusive species. They usually offload into space with a drone delivery.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yep, they don’t seem to like direct contact with other species. They are solitary creatures.”

  “That definitely works for me. How’s Tarion? I haven’t had a chance to check.”

  “He’s not doing well. I want to conclude our transaction with the insectoids so I can spend a little time at his side.”

  “I’m almost finished.”

  “Great, cause it didn’t take the bugs long to decimate the Pax. It looks like they are picking through the wreckage right now.”

  “They’re what?”

  “The insectoids are carrions, meaning they scavenge for metal and useful objects from the battlefield.”

  “That make sense, considering everyone around these parts is reluctant to trade with them. I’m going to drop these packages off in the loading bay and then I’ll come back to the bridge to relieve you.”

  It’s weird that I’m somehow holding down the fort with a skeleton crew on the bridge. This time last month I was locked in the hold rationing food bars and now I’m here, making command decisions. Those were more like recommendations than decisions, but still, it’s a quantum leap forward from what I’m used to. Tarion has to be okay. Even if the crew accepts me, I don’t want to be on this ship where everything reminds me of him if he’s not here. It would be heart wrenching. Worry twists my gut and I know that won’t stop until I’m with Tarion and he’s out of danger.

  Good as his word, Lehar returns a short time later, and we deliver the payment and tokens of respect to the insectoids without incident. They sent a bundle back to us and while they were processing it, I made a mad dash for the healing unit.

  Swallowing hard, it’s difficult to see him all laid out on a healing platform with sensors blinking around his head. I approach quietly, not wanting to disturb him or the healers working on other injured warriors.

  “It’s about time you came to me.”

  Moving at lightning speed, I sit on the edge of his floating platform. It bobs slightly as I settle in. “I’ve been really worried about you.”

  “I was worried about me as well.”

  “We need to get you to a fully functioning medical facility with specialized healers.”

  “I can see you’ve been talking to Jarnok. I’m fine. I just need to rest for a minute.”

  “Don’t worry, the ship is safe.”

  “I noticed that. We watched the whole thing on our view screen. You called in the insectoids.”

  “I know that y0u probably don’t consider that an honorable battle.”

  Rubbing one hand over his side, he grimaces. “Paying someone else to fight our battles? My father would consider that taking the coward’s way out. However, any fight you walk away from is a victory in my book.”

  “You’re n
ot angry?”

  Looking pale, he sighs. “You bought us victory for the low price of ten units of chromite, stemmed the loss of life among my crew and saved my hip in the face of invincible odds. I’ve no complaints about the way you and Lehar handled the situation.”

  Leaning over, I smooth my hand over his cheek. “I’m glad, cause it was the only solution that came to mind when our back was against the wall.”

  Shifting uncomfortably, he murmures feverishly. “I even got to keep my beautiful brooder.”

  “In order to enjoy me properly, you are going to need advanced medical care.”

  “You are all making too much of a fuss. I’ve suffered more serious injury and came out of it just fine. Tarion of the Hielsrane will not be brought down by a plasma shock.”

  Taking one on his huge hands in mine, I carefully avoid the talon. “You are going to healing center whether you like it or not. The healers are worried that you might not survive.”

  “If I die in route, make sure they bury me with my treasures.” His weak attempt at humor chokes me up. I scoot closer, grab the cloth from a container of cold water and run it over his face. His eyes drift closed, and it’s impossible to tell if he just enjoying the brief reprieve of the cool water on his skin or if he’s simply too tired to continue the conversation.

  His response worries the healers as well. Two of them rush over, bump me out of the way and pull up a clear enclosure around the healing platform he’s lying on. It pops up about two hand spans in height and they begin cutting off the rest of his clothing. I watch in absolute horror as the unit fills with green hydration fluid. It’s the fluid the Drakon swim in to keep their bodies hydrated and in optimal condition. I recognize it as the same liquid that I’ve seen the crew relaxing in. Most every deck has a pool of the liquid. Tarion mentioned that it helps keep their bodies hydrated since their skin requires external moisture to remain pliant.